The chorus of readers and of singers
were so far encouraged by their success, as to offer a second recital as
a farewell entertainment to the good people of Borth. They enjoyed it
hugely. Doubtless some of the simpler members of that audience would
follow the drift of the Sassenach poet only at a certain distance; but
Bottom's "transformed scalp," a pasteboard ass's-head, come all the way
from Nathan's, was eloquent without help of an interpreter. "Oh! that
donkey, he was beautiful," was the dramatic criticism of an esteemed
friend, a fisher's wife. The criticism was at least sincere; from the
moment of the monster's entry she had been in one rapture of laughter,
till her "face was like a wet cloak ill laid up." Well, the kind soul
had reason good enough for her merriment. But had the reason been less,
our neighbours would not have lost the occasion of dropping the shyness
of intercourse in a frank outburst of good fellowship.
But we took a more solemn farewell on the morrow, the 10th of April. The
parts were reversed now, and we were the spectators.
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